Hydaelyn Role-Players

The sound of three knocks on the front door echoed lowly throughout the young botanist's house.

Though he had no real reason to assume that she were even at home right now, Andre hadn't given much thought to what he would do should she not be. His sapphire eyes seemed to wash over with an appearance of absence for a moment as he only pondered upon that notion now, only to hastily cast it aside once again as though settling upon the idea that either way, it shouldn't really matter.

Politely, the young man took a step back from the door, ever-conscious as he was of his manners and maintaining proper etiquette when dealing with people. Friends, even those as close as he had considered Clover, still not managing to prove themselves much of an exception to that rule. The tingling warmth of the sun's rays greeted the young hyur's face with a gentle caress as it cracked through the colossal canopy of the great Oak that overlooked the Lavender Beds. Conveniently-placed speckles of shadow created by the emerald leaves shielded his eyes from the glare as he casually cast his glance in it's direction, his mind wandering for some time as he awaited the familiar and light patter of approaching footsteps from within. For the moment however, nothing other than the soft rustling of tree leaves was to be heard as they happily whispered among one another overhead, in the morning's delicately, warm breeze.

Under normal circumstances, a casual smile would have found it's way across Andre's visage. It was true that he could behold the same sight a thousand times over and never tire of it; as was his innocent adoration for nature and the beauty it so often provided here within the Shroud.

Today, however, he had not arrived under normal circumstances... at least he was not entirely sure of it. Something was on his mind and perhaps that much would be obvious to Clover after the man knocked on the door for a second time... not too soon after the first, though still more readily than what was to be expected for the ever, self-conscious Andre whom still yet struggled to dial back on the meticulously cautious and thoughtful behaviour one would expect of a noble.

*knock*  *knock*  *knock*

"...Andre?"

The voice didn't come from inside the house, just as there hadn't been any steps behind the door. Clover was found taking a peek from behind the corner of the small building, where she'd been tending to some flowers. She was wearing comfortable clothes for gardening and a straw hat, with thick gloves that had been darkened by the damp soil.

"Welcome," she greeted him with a small smile. It wouldn't be the first time he visited her, but it didn't happen often. Andre was mostly a traveller, after all, and she... well, she wasn't that kind of traveller.

"Ah.... Clover..." Andre responded with surprise as his gaze suddenly fixed upon the girl.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you there when I was walking in" he continued after a brief pause while allowing a soft smile of his own to form across his face.

Seeing her here and now, tending to her garden offered some form of relief to the young knight. In fact, it was better than had she merely answered the door to him as he had been expecting. Somehow, this helped to reassure him of something. This was Clover. Innocent, little Clover; minding her own business in her own humble and every-day manner. What had he been thinking?

Shaking off the thought, Andre stepped back from the front door, allowing him to then loiter between where Clover now stood and the front gate, his body language hinting toward his readiness to leave upon request.

"I'm not interrupting you, am I? I can come back later if you prefer"

Clover simply dismissed the question with a shake of her head, keeping the small smile she had greeted him with. It wasn't a bright one, for bright smiles weren't something someone like her possessed, but it was honest all the same.

"It is always nice to see you back in Gridania," she added right after as she continued doing her work on the garden. She seemed to be planting new seeds, which explained the dirt on her gardening gloves. Beside her, resting on the ground, there was a strange book.

"Where have you been on this occasion?"

Adventures. From her peaceful, almost unchanging life, she wanted to hear about them.

Even as Clover happily invited the idea of staying, Andre couldn't help but return her sentiment with a reluctant glance. His weight shifted unevenly on to his back leg as he still leaned on the thought of coming back another time. Had she been home at all, he had -up until now- been relying on the idea that she would be indoors... and therefore, would naturally invite him inside. There, at least, he could discuss things safely, appropriately. After all, it was - as he imagined - not a topic to be discussed lightly out in public like this.

A hesitant breath pressed out past his lips as he resigned the notion in defeat - still, however, unable to subdue a soft smile that always seemed to appear on it's own, like a natural response to Clover's particularly innocent nature.

("Just a normal girl...") was the thought that accompanied that smile. Echoing his previous conclusion, though still far from solidifying the sentiment to the point that his worries could so simply be put aside.


"A large shipment of supplies have been passing through Fallgourd Float the past few days..." the young hyur began as he made his way towards her.

Without thinking, he immediately began rolling up both his sleeves and allowed himself to kneel down alongside the girl. The sweet scent of upturned soil and fresh compost from the flowerbed before him greeted his nose, bringing him to eagerly draw in a deep breath of the calming aroma. His smile seemed to grow just a little wider for that small detail as his eyes remained shut for a second or two, relishing in the gentle warmth of the sun that complimented the many, wonderful scents that floated through the air around him.

Opening his eyes once again, Andre found himself casting a running glance along the rich layer of earth before him, noting a number of small hollows dug into the soil, presumably where Clover had intended to plant new seeds.

"...the merchants and Adder alike were worried about allowing so much traffic to pass through without proper protection, and so a number of us spent the duration out north" he continued as he gingerly gathered a modest, palm-full of seeds into his hand.

"May I?" he asked with a soft hint of amusement as he threw his glance back to meet with Clover's emerald eyes..

Ah, that was right. As Clover listened to the story, she kept imagining how it might have felt; quite an adventure, but Andre needed something different at that moment. The scent and peace of home, perhaps. Like Xydane, Andre would come back to Gridania to rest. Home...

The girl observed him, watched the way his eyes closed and his hand sought the touch of some small seeds. She smiled when their eyes met again, slightly as she always did, and nodded.

She wouldn't ask further about Andre's adventures. It was somehow clear to her that he hadn't visited her to return to Fallgourd Float; he needed to be there, in that garden, with soil and seeds replacing the cold hardness of his sword.

"Ahah, thank you" he replied simply before then carefully guiding his hand over the nearest hollow in the soil and lightly tipping the collection of seeds inside with a gentle, spiralling motion.

"It must seem so simple to you, but I've never actually planted anything before. ....It's silly, but..." Andre trailed away with an amused, albeit embarrassed exhale. Even while feeling confident after having seen such tasks handled in the past by his house's caretakers, he couldn't help but feel innocently anxious for the next few moments as he silently doubted himself and awaited any hint from Clover that he had done anything incorrectly. Even still, his modest smile only grew wider for the silly experience as he peered into the hollow for the time being, almost as though he were admiring the incredibly, simple result of handiwork.

Though his reason for coming here had certainly not been forgotten, it was slowly becoming more manageable to push it to the back of his mind for the time being. Even acknowledging that much, however, he was still awaiting any opportunity to bring it up with a keen vigilance.


After a moment, Andre then, decidedly, began reaching for yet another palm-full of seeds only to find himself stopping mid-motion as something catches his eye.

"...ah, that book...." he suddenly speaks with a curious and inquiring tone as his sapphire eyes meet with the leather-bound object lying next to Clover atop the soft, carpet of emerald - at a safe distance from the soil.

"Haven't I seen you with it before...?" he asks while keeping his airy gaze floating upon the object.

At first, it was surprising to hear Andre say that he'd never planted anything before, for he seemed to know what he was doing for the most part. But then Clover remembered that Andre was actually a noble from Ul'dah, something that had been quite noticeable even when he'd tried to keep it a secret. It was no longer a surprise to consider that nobles wouldn't engage in activities such as this. And as much as she liked tending to her garden, she didn't think that nobles missed out on many interesting things, for so did normal citizens as well. There were many other interesting things Andre had learned as a noble, she was sure.

The girl helped her friend with a few indications about the fertilizer, but other than that, she let him enjoy the experience without interruption.

Engaged in such tasks they were when he noticed the book. As Clover's eyes moved to the mentioned object, a brush of melancholy seemed to colour them.

"Its pages are still blank..." she mentioned, turning her attention to the soil once more. She continued explaining. "One of grandpa's biggest treasures was called the 'Book of Memories'. Sadly, it was lost with the Calamity... So I have decided to try to create a new one. It might not be possible, but..."

Timidly, her eyes travelled to her friend once more.

"You have not heard the story... Would you like to?"

Andre's motion drew to a gradual halt as Clover began explaining to him; albeit in a manner that would only leave quite a number of details to the imagination. With her explanation came a rather distinct tone, one that seemed to carry a mixture of feelings within itself as the girl gave her rather simple reply - the reservation of which seemingly coming off stronger than any other, of which only made Andre the more curious as to what she were actually trying to tell him.

As the girl posed him with a question of her own, Andre couldn't help but linger on a single, particular detail for a brief moment. Perhaps he were simply overthinking the matter, but her choice of wording had given him the odd impression that what she was referring to was no ordinary book, and honestly speaking, when it came to this girl in particular, such a thing would not seem quite so surprising.

After the briefest of junctures, his airy gaze would then lightly find it's upward from the book to meet with Clover's in that moment and, with a soft expression that silently told of his curiosity and intrigue, Andre gave a simple nod of his head in reply.

As ever, Clover had completely stolen his interest.

((Music for the tale.))
(( Music for the tale ))


She nodded, smiling slighty. When her eyes returned to the soil, the story started.

[...]

“A long, long time ago, when my grandpa was 20 years of age, he spent some time working as a gardener for a rich businessman from Ul’dah. It didn’t take him long to realize that the lalafell’s garden, which was neither too big nor too small, was filled with flowers he’d never seen before; he called them the Whispering Flowers.

A flower’s lifetime is very brief. They only last a few suns before their petals lose their colours. Just a few suns to understand the world and gather a thought; a single, brief thought from their experience as physical beings, whispered at the very last moment of their lives.

‘I thought the world had faded forever,' said one, 'but then I saw the sun rise again…'

‘After helping that bee with my nectar, I was glad I was born,’ said another.

When he noticed this, my young grandpa brought a notebook with him and started writing all the thoughts he could hear from the fading flowers, so that their memories would still remain even after they were gone."

[...]

Her smile had become more noticeable at that point. Clover looked at Andre and spoke again, her eyes filled with thoughts of her grandpa.

"But the importance of the garden didn't end there. Would you like to know what he did one day?"

((Music for the tale - Continued))
(( Music for the tale ))


It was as if the very world around him faded away in that moment, sinking away out of sight as the familiarly impressive, stone structures of Ul'dah swiftly replaced them; brick by brick - each cleanly stacking atop the last with soft 'clunks' to form the numerous corinthian pillars and arches that were reminiscent of his home city's design. Familiar, yet unfamiliar was the scene being created before his very eyes, as the simple tale stole him away into another world - one more beautiful and serene than Andre could have ever thought imaginable. 

Each softly spoken word uttered by the now, unseen narrator of this tale, seemed to brush a vibrant colour into the world with a delicacy that only the tender care of her feminine voice could achieve, bringing each piece of the world below to life as it was given due attention through a honeyed tone. The aesthetically-pleasant carvings of Ul'dahn architecture continued to build up around him into tall structures until he was eventually enveloped by the nostalgically, sweet and sandy scent of freshly-chiselled stone as it filled the warm, Thanalan air all around him. He breathed deep of it's homely scent, it's welcoming allure bidding the visiting hyur whom floated harmlessly above to draw in closer toward the tranquil scene that was now unfolding before his very eyes below him. With a gentle descent, the hyur drifted downward into a small, open area found amidst the buildings, descending along with the dry and weightless veils of freshly puffed dust from the cinnamon structures whom continued to form all around him.

It was when he found himself but only a few feet from the ground that the sweet, stony scent was then greeted by the incomparably, fresh aroma of newly blooming flora below.

With an expression of absolute awe, the hyur's feet noiselessly met with the winding, cobble path which steered through the modest emerald secret that lay hidden amongst the cloisters. Throughout the lush vision of green, an innumerable variety of exotic colours both passed through and bordered it's delicate world against the city of stone that lay beyond - ignorant and unnoticing to the fragile treasure contained within. Like little families of their own, many groups of flowers were arranged together, appearing in colourful sets to create wondrous patterns among both themselves and the carefully trimmed grass that lay between.

Andre blinked slowly as he became more and more enwrapped in the world around him. The abundantly, fresh scents steadily growing more real by the second. The mysterious and soft trickling sound of water droplets lightly pattering upon the leaves nearby... and even the surreal appearance of a small, snowy-white butterfly whose presence in these parts would not have even been thought possible were it not for the existence of this one, little piece of paradise that lay like a forgotten gem, hidden deep within the barren lands that surrounded them. The hyur's sapphire gaze followed behind the tiny, white wings as it floated forward with a curiously unsteady pattern through the breeze-less air until it finally led his eyes towards the presence of another, before floating away out of sight.

Andre's gaze now focused upon the unfamiliar figure residing obliviously but only a few steps away from him. A young man, one no older than himself no doubt, whom was carefully tending to a particular set of flowers before him while gently sprinkling them with a light shower of water from a steel cannister. The crystalline stream which stemmed forth shimmered and sparkled magnificently in the morning's glorious light that shone done from above, with Azeyma's divine and nurturing gaze refusing to cast so much as a single, corrupting shadow across the mystical world she would have seemed to so dearly protect below.

It was almost with an anxious hesitation that Andre would eventually allow himself to move forth, fearful of disrupting the enchanting scene as though it were anything more than a vivid image painted within his own mind.
With phantom steps, the hyur noiselessly drew closer, creeping up from behind as his own curiosity bid him to steal a closer look.

It was then, that the frail voices could be heard. 

Curious little things as they were, like a brief and simple message that was softly whispered within one's own mind, unheard by the outside world; a secret exchange of fleeting thoughts.

He could hear them.... not merely through Clover's voice, but as voices of their own. He was there. There with her grandfather in that moment... many, many years back through time. They would even continue like that for a spell, speaking further of other thoughts, other messages that the hyur could have imagined they might have said - even beyond what Clover herself would share with him.

They continued, albeit not for long... as the final voices drained out within his mind with a diluting echo and the world in which he had momentarily become a part of stretched further and further away out of reach.

Andre was returned to the present - for the time being at least - now posed with a simple question, directly from that same voice, the voice that had created such a world.



Unable to blink and naturally overcome with complete awe from the surreal experience, Andre hesitated for a moment, almost returning Clover's gaze with a mere blank expression before finally replying to her, not with words, but with a subtle yet eager nod of his head.

Clover stood up from her crouching position and took a watering can that rested nearby. The story continued.

[...]

"My grandfather had always been passionate about tales. He knew thousands of them even back then, so he used to share some with the flowers as he worked in the garden. To anyone else, he could seem to be talking to himself, but he believed that any good gardener should always speak to the lives under their care.

One day, a flower seemed to make a mention about one of his tales. ‘I wonder if the prince would have picked me,...had I lived longer,’ she said, and something moved inside his heart.

Wishing to see if he could really make a difference in a flower’s last thought, my young grandpa started focusing on a newborn. It wasn't that he neglected the others, but that little flower was the one he looked at the most, the one he spoke to the most. After a few suns, it was her time to go with the most brief, albeit not the least meaningful of thoughts. She said 'Thank you', before she joined the flow of aether.

[...]

Watering the new seeds, Clover smiled slightly to herself.

"Grandpa told me once that grandma, the woman he would meet little more than a year later, was actually his second love."

She looked back at Andre once more.

"What do you think the miracle was? That a flower was able to love him, or that he was able to love a flower?"